


Frozen

by Fififjonka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fififjonka/pseuds/Fififjonka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape survived his encounter with Nagini and returned to teach in Hogwarts. When he ignores all Harry's attempts to contact him, Harry decides to do a little surprise. Read and Review.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The moonlight cast through the small slit in curtains was falling on the dark and cold fireplace in the silent room, which bore no signs of someone’s inhabitancy. The windows were covered with heavy curtains, the furniture clean of any personal items, not even a cup left after afternoon tea on the table.

More than anything it seemed like a prepared guest room awaiting its visitors. Therefore the silent gasp for air sounded even more inappropriate.

Severus Snape was lying motionless in the bed, his eyes staring upward at the ceiling which was disappearing in darkness. He sat up quickly and unwittingly touched his neck. He grunted then, dismissing the nightmarish feeling of the clasp of terrible jaws tearing his skin and the warm blood flowing over his hands.

Not for the first time he wondered how was it possible the _Dreamless potion_ had not been working on this dream that kept repeating almost every night.

Green snake hissing, its teeth sinking slowly into his flesh, his arms and legs numb, unable to fight against it, unable to do anything to save his life. And the pair of green eyes watching him passively…

Snape ran a hand over his face, breathing in deeply. He did not feel like sleeping again and he thought of a glass of bourbon instead.

He got up and froze where he stood instantly. There was a scratching sound on the window, followed by a weak hoot.

He let his owl in, taking the parchment off her leg and reading it by the moonlight. He was glowering at the text and after finishing reading he snorted, crumpling the letter and throwing it to the dark fireplace.

“Dimwit…” he uttered. He had believed that plain and total ignoring could perhaps make him stop trying but this time he had turned to be pretty naïve. Furthermore, he felt a bit more threatened by this last letter.

What if only _ignoring_ was not enough?

Snape walked over to the cupboard, opening it and taking a dusty bottle and a small glass, sitting into the armchair near the fireplace and letting out a heavy sigh, all in complete darkness. He poured himself a glass and took a small sip, letting the warming liquid slip pleasantly down his throat.

Watching the snowflakes that had just started falling from the sky, he lit a candle and took a small piece of parchment, for there was no need for a bigger one for his one-sentenced answer.

Yet while writing it, he reluctantly reminded the other’s extremely persistent stubbornness, and deep in his mind worried if his answer would even have the intended effect.

* * *

 

“So… are you going to tell them or you’ll just wait till he appears on the doorsteps?”

Harry shrugged.

“I kind of hope this would sort somehow itself.”

“Interesting idea…” Ginny said slowly, “And I can’t really say I don’t understand why.”

Harry shook his head then, taking a sip of his coffee.

“But it’s not like it’s happening anyway, right? I mean – a pink, carol-singing elephant landing on the doorsteps and tap dancing is more possible than this.”

“It’s not _that_ impossible,” Ginny remarked. “Christmas, you know.”

Harry chuckled and glanced out of the window of the cosy little coffee shop they hid in when it had started snowing half an hour ago. Their small table was surrounded by various bags and boxes containing their Christmas presents and Harry was quite grateful the shopping had been over, as he felt hundreds of galleons lighter. They were about to have the Burrow all to themselves for Christmas, as Mr and Mrs Weasley had accepted the invitation to spend Christmas with Fleur and Bill, and with George spending Christmas with Angelina, the only inhabitants of the Burrow would be he, Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

“Anyway, I’m thinking about the plan B, because certainly the first plan is not going to work,” Ginny continued musing, stirring her tea with the spoon.

“I can’t imagine the reaction to your surprise,” she said then, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“Yeah, neither can I,” Harry replied much more gloomily.

“That’s going to be one beautiful reunion,” Ginny added and Harry regarded her with a cold look, at which she waved her hands quickly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not able to keep the amusement out of her voice. “It’s just the image…”

She laughed briefly but looking at him she rather stopped.

“No, I mean… I approve,” she said. “I think you did right. I’m just curious if you have some plan after that, you know. Some speech or something…”

Harry remained silent, as he had no plan after that.

“I’ll improvise.”

“Fine…” Ginny said. “That’s going to be worth seeing.”

Harry looked down at his coffee cap, questioning himself whether it was really such a good idea. As all his previous letters or clumsy attempts to contact him failed miserably, he thought of something more radical. And Christmas time was a perfect excuse to take his idea into action.

Albeit still not being sure how to carry that out, he just somehow knew he should.

He had even produced a very politely sounding invitation he had sent a couple of days ago and to which he was expecting an equally negative response.

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_It is my great pleasure to invite you for Christmas dinner to Burrow. Please consider it before rejecting, as everybody would be delighted to see you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry Potter._

Well, Harry was lying in at least two matters – nobody except Ginny knew about that invitation and Harry would highly doubt someone would be so _delighted_ to see him – as he could not think of the possible reaction Ron would have.   


	2. Plan B

The burst of cheering, laughter and many loud voices sounded in the deep dungeons like something far distant. Nobody was cheering there. The room was silent and everybody was sitting still except for one student struggling above his cauldron. Snape was standing above him, watching him through the greenish mist produced by the dubious contents of the cauldron.

When the terrified student dropped his knife to the cauldron with a yelp, there was a piercing bang and the mist turned red, Snape clicked his tongue and with one swift movement let the insides of the cauldron disappear.

“Pitiful at best,” he uttered to the student, who – whatever his mark would be – seemed mainly relieved Snape had moved away back to his desk. 

“I believe you understand I expect your homework essays being handed in on the first lesson after your Christmas break.”

As it was not a question nobody said anything. Snape stayed silent, reading a parchment, before saying: “Dismissed.”

With surprising silence and speed the students vanished, leaving Snape alone. He was still looking at the parchment but his eyes were not moving. He was listening to the noise made by students leaving the castle for the train.

He had heard that so many times before.

Then why did it feel different now?

No, everything was the same. Nothing changed.

He stood up, angry at himself for letting his mind wander. He left the dungeons and made his way to his room, planning to go through another bunch of essays from the fifth year. He hoped it would take some time. Ever since his secret work for Dumbledore had been over, he had realized just how much of free time he had with nothing to spend it with.

“Oh, Severus!”

Minerva had evidently materialized from the air in front of him, panting slightly.

“What can I do for you, Minerva?” he asked cautiously. He had noticed the obvious change in Minerva’s behaviour towards him and he had still not been sure what to think of it.

“I would like to remind you the tea party at Horacio’s is today at seven. You are very welcome.”

“I will consider it,” Severus said, taking the handle of his room.

“Which means you won’t attend,” Minerva said and Severus let it without an answer.

“That’s a shame,” she remarked wryly. “Nevertheless, let me also remind you that Christmas dinner is tomorrow evening and your presence is expected.”

She gave him a firm look which Severus returned and she left quickly while Severus escaped to his room.

Christmas dinner. He usually attended, why was Minerva saying it in such a grave tone? It only made him think more of avoiding it. But he knew – albeit with great displeasure – he would rather attend to keep things fine between them. And he could always leave a bit earlier.

With that thought he moved to the window, his eyes falling on the small roll of parchment on the apron. He unfolded it. It was short.

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_We are sorry you cannot visit us but we wish you Marry Christmas and Happy New Year._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry Potter._

Finally he stopped trying. Snape threw the parchment to the fireplace and looked out of the window. It had stopped snowing at night but started again. With a bitter smirk he realized that a greeting from stupid Potter was the only Christmas greeting he had received. What a depressive fact.

* * *

 

“I think it’s just something my mum would do. Or wanted me to do…”

Ginny nodded slowly. She was laying comfortably over the sofa in their room in the Burrow, leaning against Harry’s side and reading a book.

“It certainly is,” she said. “The only thing is you are not her so don’t expect warm welcome.”

“I’m not expecting any welcome,” Harry said. “ _Binding Curse_ , perhaps.”

Ginny chuckled.

“That would be suitable,” she said. Catching his look she frowned lightly with a concerned expression.

“Don’t worry about it so much, Harry. It will come out somehow. And you’re doing the right thing. However wicked it might seem.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smirk. He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. He was not much excited about it either. He took it as something that should have been done, not something he would want to do. But then again, it would come out somehow.

“You have invited Snape to our house for Christmas?!”

Ron was standing in Harry and Ginny’s room with his eyes wide. There was the parchment with Snape’s response in his hand and his expression was something between total shock and terror.

“You have invited Snape to our house for Christmas,” he repeated, carefully pronouncing each word as if trying to make it more understandable for his ears.

“Calm down, he replied he wouldn’t come,” Harry said, amused.

“That’s like the worst thing ever to do for Christmas,” Ron said. “While you were at it, why haven’t you invited some mountain trolls? Or the basilisk couldn’t make it?”

“Don’t get angry,” Harry said as Ron fell on the bed in front of them.

“I knew he wouldn’t come so I wasn’t risking much now, was I?”

“You can never know,” Ron uttered. “There are things you don’t joke about. Just imagine it. There wouldn’t be a happier Christmas Eve.”

Harry laughed. His five days spent at the Burrow were pleasingly calm and peaceful and once again he felt like he used to when he had still been a Hogwards student.

“Forget it,” Harry said. “It’s time for the plan B.”

“What’s the plan B?” Ron asked, frowning and adding: “Although I’m not sure if I want to know.”

“I think you’ll be delighted,” Harry said knowingly.

“When is Hermione coming?” Ginny asked, lifting her eyes from her book.

“In the evening,” Ron said, a small smile creeping on his face. Harry knew Ron had some super-secret present for her and he had to say he was quite curious about it. Curious and suspicious. But there was hardly a bigger surprise than what he had been planning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another instalment, hope you liked and review, please!


	3. Hit The Road, Jack

Snape had hardly slept that night and for the last couple of morning hours he kept looking at the ceiling. He was listening to the wind outside but other than that he was aware of the strange silence all around the whole castle, as usually when almost all the students had left for Christmas.

_‘Hit the road Jack and don’t go back…’_

Snape sat up quickly, his eyes narrowed. What on earth…

_‘…no more, no more, no more, no more, hit the road Jack and don’t go back no more…’_

The music continued to echo loudly and Snape grabbed his dressing gown and threw it over his shoulders, already half-way out of his room. Whichever student was responsible for that wretched sound was going to pay for it.

“Oh, Professor Snape, what’s the rush?”

Snape swore under his breath when he almost wiped Miss Pomfrey from the corridor.

“Do you know who is playing the music?” he asked without saying an apology. Miss Pomfrey shook her head with a small smile.

“But I know the song. Muggle music but actually quite listenable. Take a cookie, Professor, my little niece sent them to me.”

She handed him a paper sack and Snape pulled one cookie out absent-mindedly, still trying to locate the source of the music.

“It’s close to the headmaster’s office,” he muttered, not paying attention to Miss Pomfrey saying him goodbye and leaving. He continued after the noise and with a surprise he realized he was holding a cookie. He smelled it and frowned. He hoped Miss Pomfrey was not planning to eat it.

He stopped in front of the entrance gargoyle to the headmaster’s office. It was undoubtedly coming from there. Did someone bewitch Minerva?

“ _Veritas lux mea_ ,” Snape said and stepped on the round stairs taking him up to the office. He knocked on the door once and opened it.

“Immediately stop the noise or – “

His voice died out as he was looking into Minerva’s eyes. She was sitting in the chair comfortably and beside her there was an old looking record playing in the gramophone.

“Severus,” she said, straightening up. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No,” Snape said bitterly. “I didn’t know you are such a fan of old Muggle music, Minerva.”

“That would be me, I’m afraid,” a voice said and Snape looked up at the portrait of Dumbledore, the Professor beaming at him happily.

“I should have known,” Snape muttered and hoped to escape before Dumbledore started his speech about the beauty of Muggle music.

“I thought when it’s Christmas, a bit of music could not harm anybody,” Dumbledore said and Snape pierced the portrait with his eyes before regaining his passive expression.

“Of course,” he said. “Now if you excuse me – “

“Don’t forget the dinner, Severus,” Minerva said and he shot her a glare.

“I will try not to,” he said and turned, walking quickly away and realizing – with an unpleasant feeling – he was wearing his dressing gown and pyjamas in front of Minerva. Stupid Dumbledore…

“Oh, I’m – I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”

Longbottom’s oval face appeared in front of Snape’s, his cheeks pink and his shoulders heavy with snow.

“My mandragoras have babies,” he yelped and his excitement obviously could not be contained because otherwise he would realize Snape was the last person interested in mandragora babies.

 “Congratulations,” Snape said grimly and left him.

“I must tell Professor Sprout,” Longbottom continued talking to himself. Gladly Snape closed the door behind him in his room. For a short moment he felt a wave of immense weakness washing over him. He took a deep breath and walked over the cabinet, taking a bottle out of it and pouring a small glass of purple potion. He drank it, closing his eyes and fighting the nauseatic feeling that followed. He sat down to his armchair and rubbed his eyes.

Christmas. He could hardly find something more annoying. 

* * *

 

The station was empty and the only light was coming from the castle nearby. The steps of students had already been covered with fresh snow which kept falling from the sky in the form of heavy, thick snowflakes. It was quiet around, the only sound was the blowing of the wind.

There were four cracks and four young people were standing at the station, squinting into the falling snow and tightening their scarfs. For a minute or so they just kept looking at the caste, the snowflakes melting on their faces.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Ron said. “I feel like a student again.”

“While you’re a grown, wise man now,” Ginny replied and Hermione chuckled.

“Don’t forget it hasn’t yet been a year since we’ve left, Ron,” Hermione reminded him but Ron frowned.

“Still seems like centuries,” he said while Harry felt exactly the opposite. He felt like never leaving.

They started walking towards the gate, snow crunching under their feet.

“I can almost smell the turkey now,” Ron said, ignoring Hermione rolling her eyes, as he was obviously remembering the long tables bending under the tons of delicious food.

“You know, Harry,” he continued, “firstly I was sceptical about your idea but now it looks quite okay to me.”

Harry smirked.

“I guess I was lucky some roasted turkey was involved.”

“Can’t say it didn’t sway me,” Ron grinned. They stopped in front of the gate and were stamping their feet to keep warm.

“I hope Hagrid didn’t forget us,” Hermione said. “It’s quite freezing.”

At a response they saw a huge figure approaching quickly with snow flying to every direction under the giant feet. Soon Hagrid’s face was smiling at them broadly while he was quickly unlocking the chains.

“Heya!” he exclaimed. “Finally, couldn’t wait to see yeh!”

The gate opened and Hagrid mostly pulled them all in, hugging them all together. Harry’s and Ron’s heads crashed into one another but other than that everybody survived.

“So nice of yeh ter come fer Christmas,” Hagrid continued, locking the gate in the process. They all walked to the castle together, the four trotting behind Hagrid’s long steps.

“What’s the news, Hagrid?” Harry asked and Hagrid waved his arms.

“Sumethin’ happenin’ all the time, Harry. Nevil’s real good in Herbology, Professor McGonagall’s saying she could make an exception and yeh must see the twin Thestral babies born, can’t wait ter show yeh, the cutest little things ever,” Hagrid’s eyes were glimmering with pure happiness, “and Professor Scarabeus’ here for another year so that proves something. So…what’s with this being secret, yeh visiting today, heh?”

Harry looked at him.

“It’s not a secret,” he said. “It’s just that it shouldn’t have been told to certain people.”

“Like Professor Snape?” Hagrid asked, smirking. “Wonder what yer up to, Harry.”

But he continued to talk about Thestrals for the rest of the walk and Harry started to feel a strange sensation in his stomach. But it all vanished when they stepped inside the castle and Harry realized just how much he missed it. It was beautifully decorated as usual, with gold, red and green and Christmas trees almost in every corner, many of them with pink fairies singing carols.  

“Seems to me even more beautiful than before,” Hermione said like reading Harry’s thoughts. She looked at him.

“This was the best idea, Harry.”

They proceeded to the Great Hall and Hagrid opened the gate loudly, storming inside.

“So here they are!” he said and Harry quickly looked over the long joined table, recognizing several faces like Nevile’s, Professor Flitwick’s, Sprout’s and Trellawney’s, Professor McGonagall giving him a small smile, professor Scarabeus watching him curiously with his orange orbs and finally, the look of the cold black eyes of Severus Snape, piercing through him like a knife through a piece of butter.

Exactly the warm welcoming look Harry had been expecting all the time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, another take. Thanks for reading and comments, hope you liked and please, drop a comment again!!


	4. How do you do?

“I fail to remember I would be informed about this visit, Minerva,” Snape said, his eyes still on Harry. Professor McGonagall dismissed him with a light wave or her hand.

“Oh, Severus, I clearly recall I told you the day before yesterday over breakfast. I thought it was a splendid idea to meet again.”

Snape shot her a glare.

“Do you mind?” she asked and Snape narrowed his eyes slightly.

“I am delighted,” he said silently and Professor McGonagall gave him a warm smile.

Harry had probably never been at weirder Christmas dinner before. Seated directly opposite to Snape (a few amused looks shot at him by Professor McGonagall quite assured him who the culprit behind the seating order was), he was trying to maintain something he would describe as friendly chat over Christmas food, only with Snape’s eyes piercing into him with such coldness he was surprised their wine did not turn into ice.

Professor Scarabeus, who was sitting on Snape’s left, was very interested in Harry’s new job at the Ministry, asking him numerous questions with his deep and smooth voice. With his tall, slender figure, black hair in ponytail and odd manners, he most of all resembled a Victorian nobleman. As Harry had been informed by Ginny, he was even more popular among the Hogwarts girls than Lockhart.

“It is my pleasure to see you have found yourself a suitable career to follow,” Professor Scarabeus said.

“But then again, nobody had really pictured you doing anything else, I suppose, am I right, Professor Snape?” Professor Scarabeus said with a polite chuckle. Snape turned at him stony faced, his eyes narrow and his lips pressed.

“Oh, Severus, you’ve barely eaten anything,” Professor McGonagall, who was sitting on his right and looking at his empty plate.

“There you go.”

She loaded his plate with potatoes and turkey and Harry fought hard against laughing.

“Did you visit your parents in summer, Professor Scarabeus?” Hermione asked and Professor Scarabeus shook his head.

“So many tourists in Egypt in summer, Miss Granger. Even at such remote places my parents live. But one night we took an excellent walk through the secret passages of Ramesses’s tomb, fascinating. So much better than Tutankhamun’s.”

Harry smirked to himself and thought the rumours Professor Scarabeus was a very distant descendant of Egypt’s ancient pharaohs might have been true. 

Meanwhile Ron was talking to Neville and Professor Sprout about Neville’s trainee year of Herbology and they seemed to be laughing at some joke Hagrid cracked; and Hermione was still in discussion with Professor Scarabeus and Professor McGonagall joined in, Harry was too much aware of the terrible silence spreading between him and Snape.

Harry dared to look up and watch him, while the Professor was grimly musing over his untouched plate. If it was possible he seemed even angrier than before, or perhaps the same. Which was exactly what Harry had been expecting, yet he had no idea what to do.

At that moment Snape evidently felt Harry’s look upon him and his black eyes moved quickly, meeting Harry’s. Harry jumped up by surprise, choking on his potato.

 “So…” Harry started when he caught his breath. “How do you do, Professor?”

He did his best to sound as casual as possible.

“Marvellously, thank you,” Snape uttered tersely. Harry desperately searched his brain for further words.

“How – how have you – “

“If you excuse me, Minerva,” Snape said then, rising, “I do not feel hungry and I have some work to do. Merry Christmas to you all.”

He turned and strode out the Great Hall and Harry watched as the tips of his black robes disappeared in the hallway.

* * *

 

_“How do you do?”_

Ron was laughing at Harry from the depths of his armchair. They were accommodated in visitors’ chambers but the furniture was just as comfortable as Harry had remembered it from the Gryffindor common room.

“Not even I say _how do you do_ , Harry. After all the preparation that’s the only thing you could think of? No wonder he left so angry.”

Ron continued laughing and Harry glared at him.

“Leave him alone, Ron,” Hermione said and Ginny nodded, though both looked amused.  

“Yes, you’re the last person lecturing someone about tact,” she said, helping herself to a ginger biscuit.

There was a knock on the door and Neville’s head peeked inside.

“Can I come in? Though I would stop by…”

“Why even asking?” Ron said and Neville went inside and fell into one of the armchairs.

“I’m stuffed,” he moaned, clutching his belly. He looked at Harry then.

“How do you do, Harry?” he asked and the rest burst out laughing. Harry scowled at them. It was not a surprise Neville knew what Harry had been trying to do, as the big secret about Snape and his mother had become public the day Voldermort died. Surprisingly there had been little chance to meet Snape after that, he had been rushed to St. Mungo immediately and had been avoiding any public contact for the following year, which had been the final year of Hogwarts study for Harry. All he had was little information from Ginny, who – on Harry’s behalf – had tried to speak to Snape as well, and ended being threatened with expelling should her bring that topic ever again.

He ignored all Harry’s attempts of contact, even vanished when Harry had tried to visit him – once at St. Mungo and once at his home at Spinner’s End. So he had planned this whole scheme with Ginny and Professor McGonagall, who – to Harry’s astonishment – agreed completely, even saying it would do Severus good. Harry was not so enthusiastic but he gained a powerful ally in her.

“Sorry,” Neville said, breaking the current of Harry’s thoughts. “I couldn’t resist.”

“That’s fine, Neville,” Harry said. “I mean, I wasn’t really expecting anything else. I was expecting something worse, actually.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Neville said. “Snape’s just like that the whole term. I know it’s nothing new but he seems even worse than ever.”

One part of Harry understood, though. If he decided to return to teach in Hogwarts, he must have known everybody had already been aware of him being in love with Harry’s mum. And only Snape’s menacing aura could protect him from curious questions. He managed very well, Harry had to admit.

“Sounds like talking to him will be a piece of cake then,” Harry said.

“You must give it time and keep trying,” Hermione said.

Harry sighed. He thought he needed at least a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dear readers, after some time another update. Hope you liked and comment, please!


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